Irish Angel
by ohlove103
Summary: An emotionally broken girl and a caring biker. What could go wrong?


-IRISH ANGEL-

Ch.1: A Life-Changing Drink

As we were sitting at one of the tables, sipping our Jack Daniels, three lone guys walked in. Rough looking and intimidating, they looked out of place in a local bar. I felt an elbow jab me in the ribs. I turned back around to see my friend, Shawna wearing a huge grin. "Girrll, did you SEE those fine ass thangs that just walked in!?" I laughed at her excitement. "Yeah. Not bad." I smiled approvingly. "Not bad! Damn girl! Who the hell did you see!? I saw some hot as hell BIKERS! BIKERS, Ty!" That made me a bit nervous. What the hell were bikers doing here? Didn't they usually stick to their turf? I kept smiling, hoping it looked excited, and turned back to my drink. I could still hear Shawna chattering excitedly with one of our other friends, Legs. Of course, her name isn't actually Legs, it's Lauren. But at 6' 4", she's the tallest bitch I know. Semi-interested, I turned back around to see Legs pulling her sandy-blonde hair out of its ponytail, and shaking it. Oh crap. Shawna started to get up, but suddenly remembering I was there, grabbed my arm. "C'mon hunny! We're going to go say hello." The way her eyebrows went up on the word hello, indicated to Tyra that she was probably going to be getting a phone call the next day about exactly how fast a biker's motorcycle goes. I rolled my eyes, and I gently pulled my arm out of Shawna's hold. "You two have fun. I have shit to do." Shawna crossed her arms. "Like what? Texting? Bitch, you need to have some fun! You haven't had a good time in months!" Ty's face hardened. "You know why, Shay. You know exactly why." The sharpness of her tone, was an early warning sign that, thankfully for her, Shawna understood. She raised her hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. Whatever. But if you change your mind, you know where I'll be." 'Yeah, drunk off your ass, and underneath a biker.' Ty thought. And with a wink, Shawna and Legs were off to seduce outlaws. Ty shook her head, finishing off her beer. God did she love Shawna, but with some of the shit she pulled, there were times when Ty just wanted to kick her ass. She chuckled to herself, but was quickly drowned out by raucous laughter coming from the booth behind her. She took a quick glance back, and was unsurprised by what she saw. Legs and Shawna were sitting on the table, shirts probably undone 3 buttons too far, making dirty jokes and flirting relentlessly. As she was watching the scene unfold, one of the bikers, a man with medium length, salt and pepper hair ,with a matching beard, and two faded looking scars on his cheeks, smiled at her. Completely taken aback by what had just happened, I turned around quickly, hoping he would just go back to groping my friends. But suddenly I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around, and you'll never guess who it was. "Excuse me lass, but yew look a bit lonely. Would yew like to join us?" I couldn't talk. Or breath. I recognized the accent immediately. Irish. I absentmindedly licked my lips. Maybe it was time to start having fun, again. Eager, but nervous, I attempted to find the words, but after trying for what seemed like an eternity to form a letter, I finally just nodded. He smiled, and offered me his arm. I took it, and we walked the three steps, (give or take a few,) to the booth. Shawna, turning around to see who walked over, had the biggest smirk on her face. "Glad to see you could finally join us, Miss Thaang." I smiled, my face burning. I stood there awkwardly as the Scottish guy scooted back to his position in the center of the booth. When he noticed I was still standing, he turned to one of his friends. "Oy! Tig, move down some so the lassie can ave a seat!" A guy with thin, brown curls and the most piercing yet pain filled blue eyes I've ever seen, shifted over. "Yes sir!" He acquiesced, flirtatiously. I gladly sat down, keeping my eyes low. I looked across the booth, to see one more biker, with long brown hair, and a long brown beard that seemed very solemn. Almost like he didn't want to be there, but they brought him to try and cheer him up. I smiled sadly at him, but he just glanced at me and looked back at his mug. It turns out, that since Shay and Legs had first come over, up until my arrival, the bikers had been buying my friends shots. Bad idea. They table was literally COVERED in shot glasses. They got up from drunkenly whoreing themselves out, and looked at me. "We gotta piss. Wanna come with?" There words were so slurred that I could barely make out what they were saying. When I finally could, I told them no. So, they stumbled off, laughing hysterically about something only drunk people could find funny. "All right, I demanded, "who the hell bought them shots?"

"That would'a been me, darlin." The curly haired one, known as Tig, raised a hand. "And why did you think that was a good idea?" I questioned, getting a bit pissed. "Well...it was funny." "Yeah, but your not the one who has to listen to them tell each other they're not fat, argue, or sing GOD AWFUL covers of new Maroon 5 songs all night!" They all laughed at my irritation, and the fact that my voice cracked on the last word. I ended up busting up too, realizing how ridiculous I sounded. "You're pretty funny, darlin. Why are you hanging out with skanks like those?" The curly haired biker asked with drunken interest. "Those "skanks", happen to be my two best friends, curly." I immediately bristled at his choice of words. They may be sloppy drunks, but Shawna and Lauren had gotten me through some pretty tough shit. No one was gonna call them skanks, not if I was still breathing. Realizing he'd overstepped it, Tig held his hands up in mock surrender. "Alright, alright. I fucked up. No need to get pissy." I crossed my arms and leaned back into the booth, fairly convinced that that was as much of an apology as I was going to get. I could feel the Scot staring at me, and I looked back at him through my black and blue hair. It was too short to really be a veil, but the bangs could hide my eyes pretty well. Out of no where, I heard my name sloppily being called, somewhere near the back of the bar. "Jesus Christ," I muttered, and started to stand up. "Where you goin, doll face? I thought you were going to stay and chat a bit longer." Tig smiled, probably one of his most come-and-get-me-baby grins. "Well, while the prospect of sitting around shooting the shit and drinking with three incredibly hot bikers does sound tempting," I gave them one of my more enticing grins. "I've got two bitches puking tequila and Jack Daniels, and probably a good deal of their dignity up in the bathroom, so you'll have to excuse the sudden departure." Tig scooted in so she could get out, knowing exactly where his face would be. A few seconds later, he was staring at a perfectly rounded ass shoved into some seriously flattering black skinny jeans. 'Man, Chibs thought suddenly. 'I never thought I'd be thinking this, but I really fuckin wish I was Trager right now.'

Ch.2

The scene Tyra walked into, was nothing she hadn't already seen. Legs was hugging a toilet, vomiting while Shawna held her hair. Ty decided to relieve Shawna of duty, figuring she was probably pretty close to puking herself. Luckily, she let her off just in time, because a couple minutes later, she could hear the same retching sounds coming from a few stalls over. Grabbing a rubber band off her wrist (she'd learned to keep them on hand by now), Tyra tied up Legs's hair and quickly went over to fix up Shawna. Figuring there was nothing else she could really do for them, she washed her hands and left. 'Besides, she thought, 'if it was between me spewing this morning's breakfast in the crapper, or a table full of hot guys, they sure as hell ain't gonna pick me.' Ty walked back out to the booth, kind of surprised that the bikers were even still there. "Everything alright, lass?" The Scottish guy asked. "Yeah, but they're gonna have one hell of a hangover tomorrow. No thanks to funny man over here," I motioned to Tig. He just rolled his eyes. "Hey, I just realized, we never really introduced ourselves." He stated, leaning forward and finishing up what had to be his fifth beer. "True, Tiggyboy. Anyone wanna go first?" All eyes went to me. "Are you shitting me? No, uh uh. I'm the only one with a vagina at this table. Penis majority. Guys go first." I smiled, happy with my reasoning. I looked around, then out of nowhere, the one with the long brown hair said, "I believe the expression is, ladies first." I was taken aback at the fact that he'd actually said anything. The look on my face must have said it all, because he laughed. "Yes, I can speak, hun." I shook my head, still not believing that he was actually talking. He'd been so damn silent. It was almost like he was invisible. 'Maybe, I thought, that's the way he wanted it.' To just disappear. Only step out of the shadows when he felt the need. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Then why haven't you?" "Didn't see a reason to. My brothers had conversation covered. Besides, I like observing better." He responded, flashing me a killer grin before taking another drink of his beer. I chuckled, turning my attention back to the matter at hand. "Alright, who's really going first. Because there is no way in hell I am." The Scot raised his hand. "Aye, I'll go. My names Chibs. Born Scottish, but raised in Belfast, Ireland. I live and breath for the Sons." "Next?" He questioned, looking around. Curly raised his hand. "Hey, my names Tig Trager. I was a U.S Marine, and I love pussy." I nodded, trying hard not to laugh at the brief bio. We all turned to the last guy at the table. He rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed. "Hey dickheads, I'm Opie. I love workin on bikes and sleeping." Then all eyes switched to me. "Uh. There isn't that much to tell," I said, subconsciously playing with my hair. "My names Ty, I'm not that interesting, and I have a serious problem with getting involved with people that aren't good for me and making bad choices." I heard Tig moan. "Baby, that's music to my ears." I laughed as the older man eyed my rack. "Gettin a good view?" I asked, moving my hand back and forth in front of his face. "Mmm.." Was all I got. I quickly zipped up my jacket, getting a bit weirded out. Turning to the other guys, I remembered something. "Oh yeah, and those girls that were mercilessly throwing themselves at you, the "skanks," as Tig called them, are Legs and Shay." "Who's wh-," I cut Opie off mid-word. "Shay/Shawna is the black one and Legs/Lauren is the pretty blonde Aussie." I smiled, remembering when we first pegged Lauren as Legs. We had been walking through the mall, and practically had to run to keep up with her long strides. A panting, out of breath Shawna had said, "Damn, Legs. Give us shorter people a chance to catch up." And the name had just stuck. Now I knew there was an order of business to be taken care of. "You seem like Shawna's type." I said, nodding toward Tig. "Older, dark hair, blue eyes. Tig nodded and smiled. "I'm in the mood for some dark meat," He mused, eyes playful. I forced a chuckle, still disturbed. Then I turned to Ope. "And Lauren would love to get her hands on-or should I say legs around you," I teased. He laughed. "She ain't bad." My jaw dropped. "If that ain't bad, I'd love to see what you consider hot." He shot me a questioning look. "I've experimented," I admitted, looking off in the distance at a glowing Coors sign. "Women understand me better, and seem to care more than men. But they have too much drama. Guys have always been my first choice, but sometimes they seem not to care. I've had some pretty bad experiences with them, probably because of the habit I have of fucking any dude wearing leather." I looked back at the group to see them all looking very interested in me. "Which I'm trying to break." I saw Tig's face fall. "Well, Ty. It seems you've got your friends all taken care of. Who are you going home with tonight?" Chibs asked, with definite interest. "Me, myself, and I, sweetheart. Since my two girls are passed out on the bathroom floor, Tyra gets to play designated driver." I grimaced, trying to think if the bartender would let me have some trash bags. There's no fucking way, I'm cleaning vomit off the seats of my semi-new Jeep. No. Damn. Way. I came back from my thoughts when I heard Chibs say "No." I was confused. "No, what?" "No, you're not driving." I was irritated. "Oh yeah? And why the hell not?!" "Because, I offered you my arm to get over here, because I thought yew were gonna fall. How much have yew had?" I bit my lip, not wanting to answer. "How much, Tyra!" Goddamn that accent! "Fine! Three beers, alright?!" " 'At's what I thought." I was starting to get mad. "I can hold my alcohol, Chibsy. I'll be fine. Besides, what the hell is it to you?!" It was just then, that I realized how loud I was being. Almost half the bar was silent. Chibs leaned forward and grabbed my shoulders. I flinched at the contact. "A responsibility." He whispered, and searched my eyes for some form of appreciation. Finding only a cold, blank stare, he leaned away. He smelled like cigarettes and leather. Yum, my inner voice thought. Shut up, stupid bitch. I retorted. I don't know if it was just the booze or what, but something made me wish Chibs Telford would have held me there for just a bit longer.

Ch.3

A half hour later, we decided it was time to go. I told the boys to give me their numbers to pass on to Lauren and Shawna. After shoving the papers into my pocket, and starting to walk away, I felt someone grab my arm. I instinctively froze. I heard a voice whisper in my ear, "Feel free to put that number in your phone too." I turned around to see Tig drunkenly grinning like a fool. I smiled and nodded, trying to play it off. Right as he let go of my arm, and Chibs had disappeared to the far corner where the restrooms were, I felt a quick smack to my ass. I angrily whipped around, to see Opie holding up a now hysterically laughing Tig. He mouthed the word "Sorry." And started to pull his inebriated brother to the exit. I was completely disgusted. Not even glancing back, I hastily made my way to the bathrooms.

I threw the door open, wanting to put as much space between me and that pervert as possible. Chibs was already hoisting Shawna over his shoulder. "Eh, you mind grabbin the otha one." "Yeah, sure." I mumbled, absentmindedly grabbing Lauren around the waist and lugging her towards the door. Chibs rolled his eyes. "Don't strain yourself, love. I'll just get Tig to-" "No!" I yelled out, instinctively. It was bad enough that that trash had gone after me, but leaving him to take one of my unconscious friends to the car...uh uh. No way. Not gonna happen. He gave me a what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you look. "It's just...I can do it." I quickly attempted to cover my ass. His expression told me he wasn't buying it, and there would be questions later. "Shit." I muttered, after I watched him leave with an unconscious Shawna. It wasn't all because I'd given myself away. She looked like a twig, but me being only about 110, this bitch was heavy. After I had finally half-dragged, half-flung her into the parking lot, she was probably covered in bruises. 'Sorry hon. I thought, feeling kinda bad. 'Looks like Advils and Aspercream for you.' Chibs looked almost bored. Like he had been standing there for hours, and I finally had the common decency to show up. He looked really...badass, actually. Leaning up against front of the car, staring off into the distance, lit cigarette tilted in the corner of his mouth...'Woah girl! I thought, attempting to throw my mind out of the gutter, where it could so easily wander. As I approached, his head snapped in my direction. "Hey, hey, hey! Look who finally made it!" He teased, popping open the back door. I stopped, mid-throw. "Wait a minute, how did you-" Then I remembered. "Fuck!" I cursed myself for being such a dumbass. Why did I feel the need to roll the windows down? I shook my head, as I moved back off of the seat. I looked over at my friends. They were propped up against each other, heads literally touching, out cold. I snorted. My poor girls. I backed the rest of the way out of the car, so I could close the door. Right as I started to shut it, someone else slammed it. I jumped a little, but when I turned, saw it was just Chibs. "Next time, roll em up. He popped his P, something I found extremely ...fascinating. "Otherwise, any common criminal could get in here." He grinned, almost like he knew something I didn't. I just nodded, and hopped in the passenger side, trying to ignore the shivers going up my spine. We had been so close. I could smell the smoke on his breath. I eyed the dashboard, wondering how hard I'd have to hit my head in order to turn off the "Bad Ideas That Seem So Good At The Time," section of my brain. I don't think the dashboard would have even muted it. We drove along in silence for a while before he asked, "Hey, where the hell am I going?" "126 Maple Avenue. It's a little out of town." I was actually taking him to Lauren's house, not particularly wanting him to know where I lived. He seemed nice enough, but so do hitchhikers. Until they slit your throat and take your car. "Here," I started reaching for the glove compartment, figuring the GPS might make things a bit easier. I knew how to get there by heart, but those beers were starting to take their toll. After figuring out what I was reaching for, he grabbed my wrist, and put my hand in my lap. "We don't need none o that fancy GPS crap. I'm sure you've got it all up here," He tapped his head, and smiled. When I didn't respond, he looked over at me. I was completely tensed, shaking like a leaf. I felt my pupils dilate. Suddenly, I was reliving. Slurred, angry yelling. Stomping. Smashing. Broken glass. Blood. Blood everywhere. Empty bottles of beer and whiskey. Broken bones. And crying. So much goddamn crying. I snapped out of my memories in time to see Chibs had stopped the car. And he was staring right at me. He looked...scared. Worried. Like he didn't know what to do. He waited until after I'd stopped shaking to ask, "Christ, lassie. What happened?"

Ch.4

I turned my head to look out the window. "Nothing. I just have anxiety attacks, okay?" I understood how rude it sounded, but my personal shit was none of his concern. Just building more walls. Keeping others out was how I had lasted this long. Lauren and Shawna were the only people I'd ever really let in, and even they didn't know the half of it. I slumped sleepily against the passenger door, trying hard to push away the flood of memories that were inching their way further out of a deep, dark part of my psyche. My own personal Pandora's box. Locked, barred, and sealed. "One hell of an anxiety attack." He muttered, shaking his head. He pulled a pack of Camels out of his pocket, started to pull one out. I eyed the box greedily, noticing he still had half a pack left. He caught me. "Want un?" He mumbled, already holding one between his lips. I nodded, and he offered me the pack. "Funny. I didn't figure yew for a Camels gal." I chuckled. "Yeah, well I prefer Marbolo Menthols, but my nerves are kicking my ass, and I'll take what I can get." He just nodded. When he started hunting through his pockets, and that well-isn't-that-just-fucking-dandy look crossed his face, I knew. "Here, I got it." I leaned over to give him a light. "Thanks."No problem.." I whispered. We were so close. I could feel the heat from his cigarette. We just stared at each other for a minute or two. It started to get well...awkward. So, I nestled back down into my seat, lit up my cig, and flipped up my hood. I felt a cough rise up, and try to escape. 'Hell, no. I told myself. 'I refuse to look like a pussy in front of him.' I swallowed it back down. My eyes started to water. Fucking Camels. Too damn strong. I rolled my eyes, and glared out the window.

We didn't speak for the rest of the ride, except for an occasional street name or direction.

After what seemed like years, we finally pulled up to the house. "Nice place." Chibs commented, casually. I nodded. "Yeah, Lauren's daddy really coughed up the cash for this place. Must be nice to wipe your ass with 50's." I grumbled, opening my door. Thankfully, I heard noises coming from the backseat. 'First time I've ever come back from a bar with those two, and been happy to hear noises coming from the backseat.' I forced away a smile, and stepped out. Chibs, apparently being Flash, already had the door open, and was ushering my semi-conscious friends out. I held out my arms and he draped their limp ones over my shoulder. I began to walk towards the house, knowing the gate was already unlocked, and staggered a bit. "Yew gonna be able to make it all the way to the door?" I heard him ask, more than likely remembering what had happened in the bar bathroom. I nodded. I was just unaccustomed to the extra weight, not weak. I kept going, kicking open the gate as I went. Suddenly, I heard extra feet pounding on the gravel. I paused, not sure what else there was to say. I uncomfortably rotated, still supporting most of Lauren and Shawna's weight. "Can we make this quick, Chibsy? I'm going to have a cracked collar bone pretty soon." "Sure. I just wanted to give yew this." He held out a white card, whose writing I couldn't read. "The moon's not a very good lamp. What does it say?" "It an address. My address. Swing by soon." It sounded more like an order than an invitation. "I'll see when I can squeeze that in. Now, where exactly would you like me to put that card?" I snipped, feeling the girls stirring some more, and figuring with consciousness, would follow barfing. "Open yer mouth." I audibly gasped, my mind thinking completely different thoughts from what he was actually talking about. Either choosing to ignore it, or completely disgusted with my thought process, he went ahead and popped the card in between my lips. " 'Hanks." I mumbled, trying to talk between the mouthful of card. "Anytime, lass." He smiled, and walked away. I crunched the rest of the way over to the door. And it wasn't until I had gotten inside, put Shay and Legs to bed, and was considering a shower, that a sudden thought hit me. If he drove me here in my car, how the hell was he going to get home? I sighed, frustrated and opened to door to see if he was even still out there. Sure enough, there he was, cigarette drooping, standing out on the curb. Shit. I knew he was just trying to be nice, driving me home, but he should have stayed with his crew. I felt obligated now, to at least call him a damn cab. I whipped out my cell, and just as I remembered the number of a local cab company, I heard tires screeching. My attention was immediately diverted. I saw a black truck idling out front. Chibs threw open the back door, hopped inside and they sped off. It all happened so quickly, that I wasn't even sure it HAD really happened. As I closed the door, a sharp pain shot through my temples. "Oww." I moaned, rubbing my head. Knowing that I was going to be drinking later that night, I hadn't taken my migraine pill. Now I was feeling the effects. Another pain, short and sharp, jabbed me right between the eyes. "Ouch, dammit!" I yelled, hoping I didn't wake the two upstairs. I threw open the medicine cabinet, while I massaged my throbbing forehead, looking for anything to kill the pain. Advil. Thank you, God! I gulped down two, no water needed. Still cradling my head, I made my way up the stairs, more than excited about that shower idea.

Ch. 5

I sat in the truck, staring off into the darkness of the night. All I could think about was Tyra, and how jumpy she was. I was almost sure she was gonna have a fit of some sort, after I'd grabbed her wrist. Someone had hurt her, scarred her, a long time ago. I felt my fists clench. Whatever miserable son of a bitch-wait. Why the fuck did I care? She was just some buzzed bitch at a bar, who I'd been nice enough to see home safely, along with her two bimbo friends. But yet...it seemed somehow...different. I didn't know. I took one last puff on my cigarette, and ground it into the ash tray. I leaned back into the pleather seat, and sighed. And it didn't help any, that Tig wouldn't stop bringing it up. "Aww man! This was a great night, brothas."Great bar, great beer, not to mention hot as hell bitches!" "Especially that Tyra chick." My attention was immediately grabbed at the mention of her name. "Damn," Tig continued, practically drooling, "She's got everything I'm lookin for. Perfect ass, nice tits, bad attitude, and curves that could kill a man. I would love to ravage that pus-" "ALRIGHT, 'ATS ENOUGH!" I roared. That pig was NOT going to defile that poor girl, in a fantasy or otherwise. Tig twisted around in the passenger seat, alarmed by my outburst. Hell, I was alarmed by my outburst. "Jesus, Chibsy. What the fuck was that?" I sighed, pissed at myself for not biting my tongue. "I'm just tired of hearing the dirty details of yer sex fantasies, okay?" I attempted to cover my ass, 99% he wouldn't buy it. "You never cared before." "I might not ave said anything before, but that don't mean I wanted to here em." The wicked grin on Tig's face only confirmed my guess that he wasn't buying it. "Nah, man. You want her. You thinkin she's good old lady material?" He joked, a mischievous gleam in his eye. "You're way off, brotha. She's a nice gal, but a bit too young for my taste." I rebutted, mulling over the idea of another cigarette. "Mhm. Whatever you say, brotha." He responded, sarcastically. With a quick wink, he turned back around and went back to thinking about whatever the hell runs through Trager's mind. I leaned back into the seat, tucking a cigarette behind my ear. What pissed me off the most, was how completely right he was. I did want this girl. Bad. I wanted to know her story. I wanted her to tell me things she would never dare tell anybody else. I wanted to help her, in anyway I could. And I had no fucking clue why. But I did. Why else would I have given her the club's address? I gave her the option, because I wanted her to come to me. No matter what I wanted, I would not make myself look like a pussy, chasing her around. I rubbed my aching head. Feelings bite.

Oh man. It felt like I had been hit by a truck. But I couldn't feel any worse than the other two. That was the only thing that forced me out of bed. My stomach was practically yelling at me, so I carefully made it down the stairs to the kitchen. I tore through the pantry. Applejacks, Frosted flakes, Cheerios. Applejacks it is. I walked over the cabinet to grab a bowl, and saw a piece of paper. Huh. What's this? Teller and Morrow Automotive Repair. So this was the paper I couldn't see from last night. I'd driven past this place before, just cruising around town, but never given it much thought. The place just kind of gave off a 'Do Not Enter' sorta vibe. No wonder. I chuckled and about threw the card in the trash. But something stopped me. Curiosity, maybe. I'd never been to a REAL biker hangout before. I closed my eyes, and sighed. I remembered the accent, the dark eyes, and the debt yet to be repaid. I reopened them. Maybe curiosity wasn't the only reason. Old habits die hard.

Ch. 6

At the end of that next week, I decided it was time to pay a visit. After I locked up the flower shop I work at, I got in my Jeep and looked at the card again. It wasn't too far away, maybe 20 minutes. Still, did I really want to do this? Once I did, it would probably just end in bullshit and pain for me. Wasn't I supposed to avoid that? Especially after what had happened. I shut my eyes, tight. No. I wouldn't let it. Not this time. I owed that to myself. I opened my eyes, and turned the key. I pulled out of the parking lot and towards uncharted waters.

Damn. This place was not AT ALL what I expected. It looked almost...civilized. As I pulled into the parking lot, I double checked the address on the paper. Yep. This was the place. I sighed and turned down the Kerplunk! CD that was blasting out of my stereo. Green Day calmed me. But I had a feeling Billie Joe's soothing vocals weren't gonna cut it after I left this place. I seriously considered leaving, just putting the fucking car in reverse and hauling ass out of that parking lot. Like I was never even there. But something made me park. Something made me turn that key. Something made me walk up to that body shop. And something made Tig Trager come out to greet me. I watched as he swaggered over, cocky as could be, grinning like a crazy person. I stood there, waiting for him to get to me, and chewed my lip. Why the hell had I not been expecting this? Of course he'd be here. After all, this was their residence. Biker fuckin paradise. As I was rolling my eyes, Tig finally reached me, and wrapped his arms around my waist. "Hey baby. You miss me so much that you decided to drop by?" He asked, flashing me a grin. Keep it together, girl! My inner voice pleaded. This is not the time for one of your little freak outs! I took a deep breath, and grinned right back. "Absolutely. You were all I could think about last night." That wasn't entirely a lie. I did think of different ways to beat the living shit out of the bastard until I finally fell asleep. But now wasn't the time for those thoughts. The ball was in my court, and I planned on playing with serious skill. "That curly hair," I murmured, running my fingers through his wild do. "Those blue eyes," I continued, laying it on thick. "And all that leather." I pretended to shiver. I stopped stroking his hair, and he reopened his eyes. "Mmm. Baby, let's just say you weren't too far from my mind either." He chuckled, and I swallowed back vomit. "Oh really?" I mused, "I didn't realize I was so...memorable." He suddenly pulled me closer. "There's probably a lot of things about you that you don't realize." There was a fervent look in his eyes."Like?" I squeaked, intimidated by his intensity. "Like, that I want you. I've wanted you since last night." I frowned at his answer. "Oh, but you were still planning on going home with one of my friends, if she hadn't been out like a fucking light?" Why had I not become an actress? "No, no babe. That was just to make you jealous. Didn't exactly fuckin work, but it's true." "Whatever you say, Trager." I responded, not believing a word he said. "Aw, don't be like that." A devilish smile crossed his face. Shit."Hey, if words words aren't doin it for ya, why don't I show you." Oh God. Oh God no. He released my waist and grabbed my hand. "C'mon, it'll make up for last night." He started to drag me towards one of the buildings. "No!" I gasped, my fear suddenly taking hold. He turned around and narrowed his eyes. "Why?" Fuck. My mind raced, attempting to come up with a plausible response. "Um," I stammered, tucking some hair behind my ear. "Because," I cooed, wrapping my arms around his waist,"You can go buy and fuck any hot bitch off the street, but this one doesn't work that way." I moved my head until it was inches away from his ear. "I'm a collector's item, baby." I made sure my statement was nice and breathy, to the point where he had to suppress a shiver. I smiled, pleased with my acting skills, and pried his hands off my waist. As I walked away, I turned back, just to see what he was doing. He was just staring at me, like the true creep he was. I shuttered, just like that night at the bar, only a day before. It seemed like things had changed so much since then. I was at a fucking biker hangout, for God's sakes! I sighed and kept walking, having only one thing on my mind; a certain Irish patch.

Ch.7

We stood, leaning up against some old bike rails, plumes of smoke rushing out of our mouths like chimneys. After finally finding Chibs, and telling him about how Tig had basically offered to give me the "grand tour", it was nice to just be able to have a cigarette in silence. A few minutes later, long after we had finished our "nicotine therapy" session, and the silence felt never-ending, finally Chibs spoke. "Yew gonna tell me what that so called, "panic attack" was about in the car, the other night?" Fucking hell. Persistent little fucker, I'll give him that. But I've been hiding personal shit for years. It'll take a lot more than a sexy Irish brogue to break me. "Nothing, okay? I have bad anxiety. Good enough answer for ya, Scottie?" I didn't mean to come off so bitchy, but that was the only way I knew how to keep people out. Act like such a cunt about it, that they'll never ask again. And probably never talk to me again, either. I sighed. But something told me not to do that with Chibs. Something told me shutting him out would be a big mistake. That maybe, he could be something more along the lines of a confidant, like Shay and Lauren, as opposed to one of the guys begging to get in my pants. I looked back over at him, being kind of curious about his dive back into silence. After a second, he looked at me too. Seeing the budding tears, in my eyes, and already reading the apology on my lips, he scooted a bit closer. "Tell me, love."


End file.
